


Just The Way You Are

by Anonymous



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Smut, Unfinished, WIP, also, and then like 8 hours later i'm looking at my keyboard and, but if enough people want a smut end I guess I can give it a smut end?, but like i set out to write a smut?, i can't make this a smut, it's got a plot, it's just, not write, pun intended, that's a thing, tw; knuckle cracking, unbetad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 09:41:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11078982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: You have a crush on a big, steamy giant. And he has one on you. But fuck if either of you are going to do anything about it (unprompted, that is).





	Just The Way You Are

“Oh, thank god!”

You dragged out the last syllable as you stretched, reaching your arms far over your head, fingers interlocked so as to cause the joined knuckles to crack with your lethargic motion. Hannah shot a mildly disturbed expression as your lower back cracked in time with the rest of your joints, and you were too preoccupied with rising an eyebrow in return to the glance to notice the way the third member of the motley group eyed up the stretch of skin visible as your shirt lifted with your motion. As your arms dropped back to your sides and your eyes rolled as you began arguing- sorry, discussing the pro’s and con’s of cracking out your joints with Hannah, Bertholdt averted his gaze to the freshly washed dishes from the night’s dinner.

“-seriously, though, Hannah; they’re going to crack whether I encourage them or not.” You huffed, dumping the dishcloth in the kitchen’s laundry basket. “I’m just sparing myself some time of frustrated pain.”

“Yeah, but they way that you can just-“ The red head gestured to, well, all of you with a single wave of her hand. “Crack it all at will? It’s unnatural, I swear. Your body’s just weird.”

“Hey, my body is just fine, thank you, right Bertholdt?” You turned to the steadily reddening brunette. Sweat accumulated on Bertholdt’s forehead, and murky green eyes flashed up to your face momentarily before darting away quickly once more. Under the pressure, a soft mumbling came out of his mouth- a sound which you took as affirmation.

“See, I’m absolutely fine.” Hannah rolled her eyes, but your fellow trainee let the argument drop. The argument was nothing if not common between the pair of you, what with two years of being on the same ‘dishes’ squad, the topic always came up at least once a month. You huffed, but let yourself pretend that it had been a victory for yourself.

Why couldn’t you have been in a group with someone else- like Marco- Marco was pretty cool. But, well, you’d be lying if you said Hannah and Bertholdt hadn’t grown on you. Despite her aversion to your familiarity with manipulating your own body, Hannah was a beautiful person- cheerful in the face of hardship, and, well, hopelessly in love with Franz in a way that was so frustrating it became endearing. And Bertholdt… well. 

If you found Hannah to be a beautiful person, then Bertholdt had grown to become your own personal sun. He’d been quiet to begin with, reclusive and silent through out the time the three of you were allocated to kitchen duty. But you’d come to understand the gentle giant after the first few months, and he, in turn, had begun to relax around Hannah and yourself, occasionally contributing to the conversation with surprisingly insightful comments when the pair of you least expected it. There were still occasions now where he’d pulled back, fall silent and let what you assumed what his anxiety draw the sweat back to it’s normal place upon his brow. And his cheeks. And neck.

And damn if his collarbone look good covered in sweat- nope. You shook your head as you pulled the door back for your group mates, attempting to physically shake the thought from your mind. Bad thoughts, bad thoughts, no good thoughts; thoughts that would only lead to trouble.

Still, you let the corners of your mouth draw into a slight smirk as you watched Bertholdt trail after Hannah. Damn that was one cute butt, you thought as you flicked the kitchen lights of. Even your attempt to push out ‘bad thoughts’ couldn’t ever stop the acknowledgement of a good ass when you saw one.

~.~

It was Reiner’s group’s day to take up kitchen duty, and you could see the earlier start in the bags under the blonde’s eyes as he took his seat next to Bertholdt. Bertholdt eye’s were also slightly darker than usual, and you couldn’t help the soft smile which crept over your features as you turned your gaze back to the bowl of porridge in front of you. It was adorable how the pair of bunkmates always ended up waking early together for each other’s kitchen days, but then your eyes tightened slightly as a slightly bitter taste rose in the back of your throat. You weren’t quite sure why it was there, but you turned your mind back to the soft earthy scent rising from the bowl in front of you, drowning the unpleasant emotion with the wonder of breakfast. 

You weren’t sure when you’d started tracking your male group member’s movements, but you’d realised around the start of the second year of training that you knew his habits almost better than you knew your own. You knew where he liked to go on days off, where he and Reiner hid together when they needed some time off from the daily grind, what time he preferred to have baths- well, honestly, you were creeped out by yourself when you came to realise just how much you knew about the tall brunette.

At least now you knew why you had began to notice all the little details, but now it was more of a battle to push that reasoning aside.

“Basking in unrequited feelings once more?” Jean chided as he and Marco joined you at your table, a single bowl of porridge grasped in Marco’s hand. Jean had probably already eaten, being as he shared his rotation of kitchen duty with Reiner -alongside Eren; whoever had put this groups together really needed their psyche re-evaluated, you decided. That or they’d concluded -incorrectly- that the best way to solve the tension between Jean and Eren was to shove them together in group work as often as possible.

Actually, they’d need their psyche re-evaluated for that conclusion as well, you decided.

“Projecting your feelings again, hmm?” You shot back, and Marco shook his head with a smile as Jean shot you an angry glare. “It’s not healthy to do that- you need to confront your emotions head on, Jean, not see them in every face you see.”

“Like you’re one to talk.”

“Really, guys? Again?” You sighed, giving in to Marco’s chiding tone. You didn’t really feel like snarking today anyway; that bitter taste was effecting quelling most of your sense of humour. You were probably prone to snapping back today more than usual, and it didn’t stay friendly when you weren’t feeling right.

“Sorry, sorry.” You waved your hand dismissively, before slumping forward, resting your cheek on your other open palm, putting all your weight on the creaky wooden table beneath your. Subconsciously, you felt your gaze drift back over to where Bertholdt and Reiner. Murky green eyes met your own soft gaze, and you quickly snapped your gaze back down to the table, your free hand picking at a loose splinter in the old wood. Heat rushed to your cheeks, but you ignored the way Jean was snickering in favour of pulling the dinning table apart.

“Seriously, though, you’re becoming pathetic. This whole situation is ridiculous- like Hannah-and-Franz levels of stupid.” Jean’s comment was louder than you would have liked, but thankfully he spared you the pain of mentioning names. In the corner of your eye you noticed Reiner perking up slightly, but you dutifully ignored their table as hard as possible.

“Thanks, Jean, that makes me feel so much better.” You snapped. “At least Franz and Hannah actually like one another, he doesn’t even-“

“What?!”

“No, no, no, you’ve got it all wrong.” 

Twin protests drowned out the rest of your statement, your words having reached the pair who were seated two tables away from you. Both you and Jean glared at one another, attempting to blame one another for the protests now being echoed around the dinning room. There was a mixture of reactions from the other occupants, some chuckles running around the room, while other’s groaned in annoyance, and Marco shook his head with a soft smile of fond exasperation- seriously, did this boy’s patience have no end? 

But even as Marco began to change the topic of conversation, you couldn’t help the way your gaze dragged back over to where Reiner and Bertholdt sat. The stricken expression on the brunette’s face caused your heart to tug painfully, and you quickly averted your gaze once more; what had you missed to cause such a disturbing reaction?

You’d never seen him like that…

~.~

“So who is this rumoured crush of yours?” Hannah waggled her eyebrows at you as she waited, tea towel in hand, for you to hand the next cleaned breakfast dish over to her. Your groaned in frustration; you’d hoped that at least the girl so deep in denial about her own crush would have had the decency to let the gossip mill of the last month lay dead for the day. But no, here you were, cornered by the assigned chores, with no choice but to face the awkward as shit questions that had been haunting you since that morning weeks ago. 

Bertholdt also seemed uncomfortable with the topic- or perhaps displeased with it. It was hard to tell, but the furrowing of his eyebrows was deeper than you’d ever seen it before.

“No one.” You huffed, viciously attacking a particularly stubborn speck of porridge. “It wouldn’t matter even if there was someone, okay? It’d amount to nothing either way.”

“What?” That was the closest to a whine you’d ever heard from Hannah in all the time you’d known her, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think she was enjoying the fact that everyone seemed to be caught up in a developing or potential relationship that wasn’t her own. “Come on, I’ve told you all about my dream man, you have to tell me about yours!”

‘Everyone knows who your dream man is, that means practically nothing.’ You think uncharitably, suppressing the oversensitive reply as you passed the girl the squeaky clean bowl. Instead, you push the frustration aside, and shake your head with a soft sight.

“Look, it doesn’t matter, okay?” Hannah opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off, gazing down at the floor. “They won’t ever like me anyway, so it doesn’t matter. After all,” a self depreciating smile etched itself into your features, and the scent of the dishwashing liquid burnt was what was pricking at your nose and eyes, that was all. “Who would like a sharped tongued, over-sensitive bitch.”

“Don’t.” Your eyes had subconsciously drifted over to Bertholdt’s shoes, and you didn’t realised until you snapped your eyes upwards to see his reddening face. But there was a rare glimmer of determination behind the nervous features, shining softly in green flecked eyes. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.” You felt your cheeks rapidly heating up; something which was mirrored by the brunette opposite you. Hesitance crept into the taller male’s form again, shoulder’s hunching slightly, and his gaze began to wobble. “I- I mean, uh,-“

“Any man would be lucky to have you.” Hannah’s statement was forceful for her usual mannerisms, and if you hadn’t been bright red before, Bertholdt nodding in agreement with the red head’s statement had flicked your cheeks into the most vibrant shade of crimson possible. You let your eyes drop to your hands and, as you offered another cleaned bowl to Hannah, a dry smile acknowledge the statement, though your eyes were still swimming with emotion, and no those weren’t tears.

“Unnatural cracking and all?”

“Unnatural cracking and all.” Hannah pushed, before giving the dried bowl to Bertholdt, which he stacked into the previous one he had yet to put away. When the gentle giant failed to move, Hannah took the bowls out of his hands to put away in the cupboard located at the other end of the room.

“I wish.” You muttered, before shaking your head and turning back to the empty sink of soapy water in front of you. Out of sight, Bertholdt looked conflicted, eyebrows still furrowed tightly as his grip tightened on the tea towel in his hands.

~.~

Things… began to change. There was a shift, something you couldn’t place right away, but slowly it began to reveal itself. If you had to place a start, it was when Reiner asked to be your sparring partner a couple of days after what you had so generously decided to name ‘the dinning room catastrophe’. The blonde was built, and boy did his throw downs hurt. It didn’t really seem like much at first, but then Bertholdt and Marco joined the pair of you for a four way spar. At first you’d blamed Marco for instigating it, and had been grumpy with the brunette for a couple of days, but then Jean punched you and after an uncharacteristically deep conversation you’d concluded that, yeah, that would have been more of a Jean move to pull than a Marco move.

And then Reiner and Bertholdt slowly migrated over to where you three sat during meal times, and that was when you were struck into sense.

Nowadays, there was rarely more than an hour outside of bathing and sleeping times where you hadn’t seen either one of the friends outside of your field of vision. You were so used to looking out for Bertholdt that you hadn’t even noticed that you didn’t need to actively look anymore, because he (and his fine ass butt) were always, well, right there.

It was weird?

It was weird, and it made your heart do this stupid loopy thing, causing you to be short of breath. You’d actually tripped over your own feet when you realised, and you had been on the receiving end of a deep glare from Shadis for holding up the group by face planting in the middle of an endurance run. 

There had been three people there to greet you when you finished your punishment laps; Marco and Reiner apparently deep in discussion while Bertholdt stood slightly off to the side, staring down at the saved food in his hand with a conflicted expression, head off in the clouds. Marco and Reiner had had this weird expression when you’d arrived- something akin to success, almost- and Jean had later explained that, yes, he had been waiting for you too, but the Mikasa and Eren passed by, and-. 

Well, you tuned out his rant at that point. Those rants were almost all the same, in essence, and you’d long since grown tired of them.

It had, well, it had been a weird month. And, despite everything, you were kind of glad that it was now Sunday; a day off. Bertholdt normally either went into town with Reiner, or the pair would head out to the fields where Bertholdt would pull out his novel of the month. Or, well, you assumed that was what they did; he took the book, and they went out to into the forest, and you knew he loved reading, so ‘reading in the fresh forest air’ was the first conclusion your mind ever went to. 

But it was Sunday, and you needed time to think about what was changing around you. Was it easier than he was actually trying to be friends now, or was it even harder? Because, God, your heart was doing that stupid clenching and leaping more and more often these days, and you knew why.

So you waved off your dorm mates with a tired motion, encouraging them as they went out to hang out in the township for the day or whatever they wanted to do. Hannah seemed to linger, which was weird, since she and Franz usually went out to the local cafe each Sunday, but soon even she was gone, and you let out a sigh of relief.

Tension seeped from your muscles, and a yawn wormed its way out of you, stretching your jaw wide. You could feel the hinge click a little at the motion, and that instigated a full body stretch, arms reaching far over your head, and it was your heels turn to crack in time with your knuckles.

“Whhyyyyyy?” You whined into your pillow, pressing the poor quality, military issued item up against your face. What had you done to deserve this dilemma? You, well, you really liked him, but he seemed to just want to be friends, perhaps out of pity for your display of self-hatred the other day. A groan of frustration was the next noise muffled by the pillow, and you pressed you palms down harshly against the pillow case, pushing the feathered item even harder against your face. The scent was weird, a the scent of previous users almost completely drowned in 2 years worth of your own smell- whatever that smell was.

How did one even describe their own scent?

You happily let your mind follow that tangent, and you were just trying to recall what you’d learned about pheromones during the awkward sex talk your parents had gifted you so many years ago, when your body changed it’s lying angle as a heavy weight settled at the end of your thin, uncomfortable mattress. 

“Hannah, if you’re putting off your date-not-date to interrogate me again, I swear to God-“

“I, uh…”

You froze as Bertholdt’s voice drifted around the pillow smashed up against your face.

Oh God, why.

If your ears were prone to blushing, they’d be burning right now. As it was, you were glad the pillow covered all of your face and most of your neck from view.

“Bertholdt?” Your voice cracked slightly, but you persisted. “Uh, wh-what are you doing in here?”

“I…” You could feel your crush’s heat radiating off of his body, the embarrassment heating up his body enough that you could feel it warming up your feet and legs. “Reiner locked me in here?”

You scrunched up your nose, and you brought the pillow down off of your face, pulling yourself up to gaze confusedly at the blushing brunette. Your cheeks were still burning, and you could feel your neck beginning to brighten as well, but you took the distraction as fast as possible.

“Wait, what? Why?”

If at all possible, Bertholdt’s cheeks and ears darkened further. You attempted to shift topic, not wanting to make him uncomfortable… 

“How did he even get the key?” Even as the words left your mouth, the memory of Marco and Reiner talking together flashed in front of your eyes. “Marco.” With a groan of annoyance, you pushed the pillow back down against your face and let your body flop back down onto the bed like deadweight.

The heat near your foot flared up, and you heard a muffled noise through the pillow- almost a keening whimper. What…?

There was a slight pain in your chest, a normal occurrence from your lazier Sunday’s when you moved too suddenly and, yeah, you weren’t wearing a bra. You weren’t wearing a bra and you’d just taken a fast movement, and based on the pain from your chest, yeah, your boobs had just flopped around in what was probably the most embarrassing way possible. You’re kind of glad that you weren’t aware of it immediately; at least now you’d never be able to picture how they actually looked.

You could swear you felt steam against your foot from the degree of heat rolling off of Betholdt’s body. Concern overrode your embarrassment, and you lifted the pillow up past your head, and you could visibly see the blush darkening as your shirt rode up a little with the action.

“You okay?” There was a noise of defeat from the mortified brunette, and you rose once more, leaning forward to place a hand on Bertholdt’s shoulder- how was his shoulder equal with your forehead height even when sitting down, seriously? “You could probably fit through the window if you tried- there’s one just above Annie’s bunk.”

“I-“ Bertholdt appeared conflicted at this offer, and you waited patiently, no wanting to push him to make a decision. “No, it’s okay, I needed to talk to you anyway.” The constipated look on his face conflicted with his words, but you decided not to argue.

You didn’t really want to argue, but… you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable either.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, he does.” Jean’s voice suddenly rang through the window, causing the pair of you to jump and let out your own versions of embarrassed squeaks. “In fact, you know what, I’m going to speed this whole scene up a step or three-“ Marco protests could be heard through as well, but Jean drowned him out, while Reiner could be heard attempting to muffle his laughter.

“Bertholdt, she has a crush on you too. Now you too can either fuck, or we’ll make you miss training tomorrow by locking you up again.” And then the window was slammed shut, and you could hear the click of the lock- damn, Jean must have gotten the key somehow. 

The tension in the room was thick enough you could taste it. It tasted of mortification and, perhaps it was your imagination, but there seemed to be a hint of… apprehension? Or was it anticipation?

Tasting emotions was hard.

“Do you?”

Though the question was hardly more than a whisper, Bertholdt managed to keep his voice steady. Again your heart seized, and your hands fumbled around anxiously; crossing over your chest, then resting on your knees. But when you rose your thumb to crack you knuckles, warm hands wrapped themselves around your own. Murky green eyes held your own as you rose your gaze to Bertholdt’s. There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes, and you could feel your heart thudding in response.

A shuddering sigh broke out of your lungs, and you leaned forward until your face was tucked away in the juncture between Bertholdt’s neck and shoulder. 

“I do.”

“I’m sorry.” 

There was the crack you’d been expecting, the break in his voice. The words, though… those were unexpected. You refused to look up; it would be a pointless endeavour, since you’d both just avoid one another gaze once more. Instead, you pulled your body close, curling up into a ball on Bertholdt’s lap, ignoring the slightly stiff member you could feel under your thigh in favour for breathing in the musky scent the gentle giant had never been quite able to quell. 

“I’m not.” You retorted, letting your lips trace the words into his neck. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and you could feel the beginnings of the vibrations of a retort, but you cut him off.

“I don’t expect you to reveal everything about you- about who are are, what you’ve gone through, or even really what you hope to achieve.” You felt tears prick slightly at your own words, feeling the tension only increasing in his muscles.

“I just want to be with you now, and for however long it lasts.” You gritted your teeth together lightly, and yup, that was apparently a pleasant feeling on his neck for him based on the increased pressure up against your thigh. “I like who you are as I know you now, and I’d like to know more, but I’m also happy just knowing what I know now.”

This time you pulled back, emphasising your next words with a questioning stare, ensuring he knew he had a choice. 

“But, yeah, I wouldn’t mind a little more physically than what we have now.”

Even as you spoke, you ran a thumb over Bertholdt’s cheek, brushing away the single tear that had escaped the brunette’s notice. As soon as you finished, however, there was a flurry of motion and your hand’s felt cold again as sweaty palms came to cup your jaw. You attempted to quell the chill of your fingertips by digging them into the warmth below them, and it was only after Bertholdt shuddered underneath you and his gaze darkened that you realised you’d effectively spread your hand out underneath his shirt. You could feel the fabric of his pants over your pinky, rougher than the cotton of his green shirt, and you found yourself also shivering at the feeling.

“Are you sure? There’s so much… I mean, I-“

“I’m sure.” You maintained eye contact, even as you began to flex your fingers, enjoying the sensation of taunt skin against your palm. “And I promise to let you know if I ever change my mind.”

There was a look in his eyes, a hesitance to accept what was before him was reality, and it broke your heart a little, wandering what could cause this disbelief towards anything going in his favour.

**Author's Note:**

> (Have a soft preview to a possible smut ending haha)
> 
> In the end, it was you who leaned forward first, capturing his lips with your own. It was a soft peck, barely a few seconds long, but the hand on your jaw was quick to draw you back. Closing your eyes, you let out a small groan of relief as you slumped forward further, pressing Bertholdt down until he was stretched across your bed, one hand softly stroking your cheek, the other slowly venturing further downwards.
> 
> You let your own hands wander, ignoring the strain in your legs in favour of pushing Bertholdt’s blue shirt up to his armpits. You let your thumb run over the muscles beneath you, toned from two years of military training, and as your thumb circled around his right nipple Bertholdt broke away from the kiss to let out a deep moan. Red rose to his cheeks from embarrassment, but you dismissed it with one last quick peck before tugging his shirt off entirely.
> 
> Bertholt was beautiful. There was no other way to describe him; tall, lean, but muscular and clearly defined. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and more sweat began to accumulate the longer you stared.
> 
> “Beautiful.” The murmur escaped you lips involuntarily, and the word came out in a breathless gasp, but you were completely in control as you bent forward to place a kiss in the centre of his chest. A deep breath and, yes, that was exactly how you’d imagined it. The musk was stronger than before, and you grinned up at Bertholdt mischievously before licking a thick line out from under his left ab up to the centre of his chest.
> 
> “F-fuck.” The moan when straight to your quivering pussy, and you fought against the need to ground down against the leg below your crotch. It was a loosing battle, and as Bertholdt drew you into another deep kiss, you gave in, extracting another soul shuddering noise from the rumbling chest beneath your hands.
> 
> “W-wa- ah!” Bertholdt gasped out, but gently pushed you up slightly. “Wait, I want to-“ Hands almost twice the size of your own tugged at the hem of your shirt. Getting the gist, you rose your hands, letting him pull your nightshirt over you head. Even if you hadn’t felt the way 
> 
> (I know, smut isn't exactly my genre)


End file.
